


Genesis

by QQI25



Series: Black and White [3]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Slow Burn, Spideypool-prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-01 01:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14509701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QQI25/pseuds/QQI25
Summary: Prompt #228: the world is black and white until you meet your soulmate. when [your] soulmate dies it turns black and white again. i imagine it really screws with peter since dp is always dyingfrom spideypool-prompts on tumblr





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mahan_734](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mahan_734/gifts).



> yo so i typed beginning into thesaurus bc i was looking for a title and found origin nd typed origin in nd got genesis so genesis it is. 
> 
> also i was def NOT planning on making this multi-chp, but my finger just. decided to page break so multi-chp it is lmao

It was . . . surprising, to say the least, when Peter’s first encounter with Deadpool led to colour entering his world. He’d always been told by the Avengers that Deadpool was dangerous and unpredictable, and to stay away from him, and here he was, with Deadpool as his soulmate. They were one of those lucky pairs whose soulmates were each other - or, at least, he figured it to be, because when he first met Deadpool, Deadpool immediately jumped back off the roof. 

Things continued like that for a while, and it got so that instead of being intimidated by Deadpool, he was frustrated. So _very_ , very frustrated, because he’d gone through high school and then college being disappointed that he and Gwen weren’t ever gonna be a solid thing, and he and MJ, and he and Harry. They could fall in love and make each other really happy, but they weren’t soulmates. And then, when he finally found his soulmate, his soulmate decided to fuck right off. He didn’t even know Peter! It hurt to be rejected right off the bat like that. And it didn’t happen just once; it happened many, many times. Rooftops were also a comfort spot for Deadpool, it seemed. Anytime Peter spotted Deadpool and made to go over, Deadpool noticed him somehow and ran away. 

One day, Peter decided he’d had enough of that, and got over to Deadpool so quickly he was able to web him before he could move. He made sure Deadpool’s arms were at his sides so he couldn’t reach for his katanas, and his legs were webbed tightly together so he couldn’t run away. 

“There. Now you have to tell me why you keep fucking _running away_. You don’t even fucking know me! Why would you reject your fucking _soulmate_ before you even get to know them?” Deadpool tsked at him and he scowled.

“Have your pal-ios the Avengers never told you about me? I’m disappointed in them. I’m not as big of a threat/danger/menace as I thought.” Peter _knew_ Deadpool was his soulmate as well as a “dangerous mercenary”, but right now, he was just an irritating idiot who said “slash” out loud. 

“They _have_ told me about you,” Peter started tightly, “but you’re my _soulmate_ , and I’d _like_ to at least get to know my soulmate before he fucks off again and rejects me.”

“Here’s something your soulmate would like to know: why did the universe of whoever the fuck made the soulmate rule thingamabob decide to pair me with a youthful adolescent? Uncool. Unmoral.”

“I’m not a _youthful adolescent_ ; I’m 22, thank you very much.”

“Oh. So it wouldn’t be bad if I complimented your ass then, would it? Because _damn_ that _ass_ , Spidey. Sculpted by the gods themselves, or like one of Michelangelo’s sculptures. Perfection. Anyway, can you free me? I can’t die, but it’s certainly uncomfortable to have my circulation cut off.”

“Are you gonna run away if I do?”

“No. You can just take one of my babies strapped to my back. I trust you.” Peter sighed and did as he was told, taking a katana and slicing through the webs. As soon as he sheathed it, Deadpool took a running leap. 

“I didn’t promise, Spidey,” he called out cheerily. 

“Fuck!”

After that, he just didn’t try to go to Deadpool if he saw him. He stayed where he was, because he was tired of running, of trying, of being rejected.


	2. 2

Today had been a long day, and Peter was tired. Well, he was always tired now so that wasn’t different, but it wasn’t like he felt much else. Unlike most days though, his exhaustion affected his performance in a fight. Deadpool, of all people, ended up showing up to help him. He hated that he needed that help. And from someone that hated him, no less. 

“ _Some_ one’s performance is less than optimal,” Deadpool noted when it was all taken care of. Peter was sitting slumped against the wall, a move that was unsanitary but that he didn’t really care about at the moment, and Deadpool was looming over him. 

“I wonder why,” Peter muttered. 

“Hey, you good?” Deadpool cocked his head. 

“Yeah, just peachy.” He pushed himself up, and when Deadpool placed on a hand on his shoulder, shrugged the hand off. 

“I’m serious. You’re lacking your usual energy. Where is it?”

“I don’t _know_ , Deadpool. Maybe I’m just tired of interacting with someone who hates me.” He webbed away before Deadpool could say anything else. He might come to regret that, but right now he just wanted to go home and _sleep_. 

. . . 

After that incident, he decided he was gonna do more harm than good until he got more sleep, and stopped patrolling temporarily. It worked, for a bit. He was feeling more rested for the week or so he stopped. But he was also feeling more _restless_. Oh well. At least he had one week of decent sleep.

The one week was reminding him he’d isolated himself from his friends and from May, and didn’t really have anyone he could talk to about any of his issues, though, and it made him think about the whole soulmate thing. If Deadpool wasn’t gonna be a good soulmate, the least he could do was tell Peter _why_. And with that, the first night back on patrol was more to find Deadpool than to keep the city safe. 

“It’s New York’s favourite arachnid! Come to grace the city with his presence once more,” was how Deadpool greeted him, instead of his usual running away act. 

“Why won’t you just give me a _chance_?” was his response.

“Oh it’s not about me giving you a chance, Baby Boy; it’s about _you_ giving _me_ one,” Deadpool answered dolefully.

“Yeah, well. I can’t very well give you a chance if you don’t _stay with me_ long enough for me to. I’ve been _trying_ to, but besides that one time _I_ was the one leaving, you’ve been fucking off as soon as I got near you.”

“Ooh! Spidey’s feelin’ spicy!”

“Peter. If I’m your soulmate, you oughtta know my name,” Peter said shortly.

“Oh, Petey, Petey, poor little Petey. I pity you. The universe really hadta saddle you with the worst person, eh?”

“Jesus _Christ_ can’t you just let _me_ decide what I think of you? Can’t you just let me get to know you?”

“Oh, trust me, I’m not the kind of person you get to know. I’m not the type of person _anyone_ gets to know, Baby Boy.”

“God, you’re vain, aren’t you. Did you ever think maybe things would be different with your soulmate?”

“And you’re a persistent little bugger.” Peter was pissed that he couldn’t help but snort at that, but Deadpool seemed happier, so he figured it was okay.

“Please, just, I don’t know, I’ll buy you dinner even though I’m a broke college student. I know I told myself I’d be good with an explanation as to why you don’t seem happy to be my soulmate, but I’d like _one_ interaction with you that lasts longer than a few minutes,” Peter pleaded. Deadpool was silent for a bit.

“Fine,” he said finally. “But don’t say I didn’t warn ya. And don’t worry; I’ll foot the bill for dinner. ‘M a merc, after all. I got the money. Hahaha. ‘M the Merc With the Mouth as well as a merc with money. Anyway, this is your last chance to back out.” 

“What the actual fuck, dude? Have you like, actually been paying attention to _anything_ I’ve been saying.” 

“No, yeah, of course. A mouth like _yours_. Like damn, I haven’t actually seen it yet, but I imagine you’ve got the _plushest_ lips and they’re probably a _beautiful_ colour. A mouth like _yours_ , I hang onto every word. I’m just making sure you can’t sue me for infliction of emotional distress.”

“Shut the fuck your mouth. You’re stupid in regards to your stubbornness in thinking that I don’t like you. The only reasons I don’t like you right now are that you keep slandering yourself and you refuse to let me even be your friend.” Deadpool cackled.

“Shut the fuck your mouth? What the fuck does that even _mean_ , Petey?”

“Shut up, dickbag. Let’s go eat. I’m hungry.”

“Oh, I see. It was all a ploy to ply you with food.” 

“Yes, yes, now hurry. I think I’m dying. What are we eating?”

“Only the best food in the world: Mexican. I know this a _ma_ zing stand.”

“Whoaa, you’re taking me to a _stand_? Not even a legit restaurant?”

“Hey, beggars can’t be choosers. And besides, it’s really fuckin’ delicious. I promise.”

“Touché.” 

“And no one will have to see my skin but you,” Deadpool said in a much quieter voice. 

“What do you mean?”

“Fuck! Stupid! I told you to shut up but you don’t _li_ sten, you never - no, shut up, shut up, shut-“

“Deadpool? What’s . . . are you okay?” Deadpool looked up sharply, as if he’d forgotten Peter was with him. 

“Hey, I’m really sorry but I really gotta jet, Petey,” Deadpool said apologetically. “Raincheck on the food thing!” He ran away. Peter never even got his name. Or food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dp def is smart!! what a smart, intelligent boy!! i love him!!
> 
> also sorry if it's extreme?? wht the fuck ever u kno


	3. 3

Tonight was a quiet night, and Peter thanked the gods for small mercies. He was laying down on a rooftop when he sensed someone. He opened his eyes to see Deadpool looming over him once again, and closed them. If anyone came up to them, which he doubted would happen, Deadpool was more than capable of protecting them, which he _didn’t_ doubt. 

“Hey, listen, I’m really sorry I left last time before you got to eat. I hope you got food that night, broke college student and all. I brought food today, from the stand I was telling you about. I didn’t know what you liked, so I just got carnitas because I figured _every_ one liked it-“

“You’re rambling.”

“Right, yeah, sorry. I’ll shut up now.”

“No, no, I’m just saying. I mean, I think it’s endearing.”

“Well. Ain’t that a first.” He handed the carnitas to Peter, who took it graciously. 

“Thank you very much.”

“Yeah, yeah, have your free food. Just - don’t, I mean I -“

“Warned me, yes. No less than three times. I get it, Deadpool. You don’t have to worry about shit coming from me. I promise that whatever it is you have going on, I don’t mind,” Peter replied softly, pushing himself up. 

“Wade.”

“Wait? I mean sure, but I’ve been waiting for a while and-“

“No, not wait, silly. _Wade_. It’s my name. If I’m your soulmate, you oughtta know my name.”

“Oh. Well then. Hi Wade.” 

“Hi. You should eat, you starving child.” 

“I will, I will, you man baby.” Peter pulled up his mask to eat, and only when he was preoccupied did he see Wade pull up his own mask out of the corner of his eye. The little skin that showed was covered in scars, and from how careful Wade was about his suit, so, probably, was the rest of his body. 

“Sorry I ditched you last time. I was . . . having a bad day,” Wade mumbled.

“I hope today’s been better,” Peter offered.

“It wasn’t but I mean, when is it? I mean, who ever really has a good day? Don’t answer that. The answer’s normal people. I know that. It’s my fucking brain, is the fucking issue.” 

“I wasn’t gonna say that? I just? Have you tried turning it on and off?”

“What?”

“Putting it in rice?” Wade’s eyes widened in realisation and he started sniggering.

“But I mean seriously. Food. That’s your answer right there. My crappy days are always solved by getting a meal. Especially one that isn’t just ramen.”

“Using humour to defuse a situation? Oh I _like_ you. I can see why you’re my soulmate. _Man_ are we gonna be a good team. If you wanna be a team, I mean. I mean I just meant like, we’re similar in the humour thing and our banter’s good and villains are gonna be entertained? Do you _have_ -”

“You’re rambling again, Wade. Seems like _some_ one’s a nervous rambler. And I don’t see why not. I could always use more help, especially with all the dumbass idiots causing disasters and trouble. As long as you promise not to kill people.” Wade immediately perked up. 

“Oh my god yes!!! Wow oh-em-geee I can’t believe Baby Boy’s asking us on patrol with him!!” They’d finished their food at this point, and in his excitement, Wade had forgotten to roll his mask down. Peter didn’t roll his down either. It was easier to breathe and to see Wade’s expressions like this anyway.


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know how i want to end this yet, which means i don't know how long the next chp will be or when it'll come out. we'll see wht hppns!

Wade joined him on patrol regularly nowadays. They met up on a rooftop - usually the one they first ate together on - and then went where they needed to go. When things died down, they got food and went back to the rooftop to eat. The person paying was always Wade, which Peter felt guilty for at times, but Wade always assured him that his “ashmazing food recs” were compensation enough. Besides, broke college student. Free food. Good combination. What more did he have to say? 

With all the smack the Avengers talked about Deadpool, Peter was surprised at how . . . obedient Wade was, for lack of a better word. He never killed - or as Wade liked to call it, “unalived” - anyone when they were on patrol together. He was also, for the most part, good at not being reckless. He paid attention to Peter’s instructions and he didn’t really do more than he needed to. He was good, and he was right as well, when he’d said they had good banter. It made Peter look forward to patrolling at night to have that action and that entertainment. 

Deadpool still took jobs. He still occasionally didn’t show up for days or weeks. He also still had bad days. He had days where he said he wasn’t hungry and instead just watched Peter eat. He had days where he refused to lift up his mask. He had days where he was more reckless. He let himself get hurt. 

It wasn’t ‘til a few months into their friendship that Peter’s vision went back to black and white. The sun had already set, so he didn’t notice it first. But when he took out his phone to play with out of boredom, he noticed he couldn’t see how colourful his wallpaper was. 

“Fuck! Holy shit! Holy shit oh my god,” Peter said frantically. He didn’t even have Wade’s number. He hadn’t even seen Wade’s whole face. They hadn’t even tried anything beyond their platonic relationship. Impulsively, he dialed Tony.

“Peter. Nice to hear from you. What’s up?”

“I - Tony, W-Deadpool’s dead. He’s _dead_.”

“Whoa, calm down. No need to be all up in arms about it. He won’t even stay dead forever. Unfortunately.” Tony said stuff after, but Peter didn’t register any of it. He was stuck on the “He won’t stay dead forever” bit, and he blew out a breath in relief.

“Okay, yeah, good talk, bye.” He hung up even though he was pretty sure Tony was still speaking to him. His soulmate was dead. Temporarily. How long would he stay dead? It wasn’t that Peter loved colour so much as Peter loved having a companion. He liked Wade, liked having someone he spent time with, someone he ate with, someone he joked with, someone he talked with. He’d grown reliant on their patrolling as his source of human interaction outside of college. 

Peter was apparently better at sticking to routines and cycles than he’d realised. Colour had been restored to his vision a few hours later, but by then he’d long been pissed. Call him backwards and nonsensical and whatnot for doing this, but he couldn’t help it. He started avoiding Wade again. He was _mad_. He was mad at himself for relying on Wade, mad at Wade for dying, mad at Wade for scaring him, mad at Wade for not telling him anything. The staying away only lasted a few days though, because then he felt guilty and he didn’t want it to happen again. 

The next night, Peter went to Their Rooftop and saw Wade sitting hunched over against the side. He walked over and plopped down unceremoniously in front of Wade, holding out his phone.

“Give me your number,” Peter instructed.

“Pete-”

“Just do it.” Wade nodded and took the phone, entering his number. When he was done, he gave it back to Peter, who pocketed it.

“Peter, I’m sorry. I really am. I know it probably affects you, but I just - couldn’t handle it that night. And I _had_ to. It was the only way to get them to shut up.”

“Get who to shut up?” Peter asked softly. Wade’s face screwed up, and he hunched his shoulders more, if that was even possible.

“I - the voices. In my head. Hah. I sound fucking crazy now. There are voices in my head and they tell me what I absolutely _love_ to hear, comments on my appearance, my actions, taunts as they goad me to do it, to pull the trigger.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you just . . . talk to me?”

“I couldn’t! I couldn’t, Peter, because you were gonna leave like every-fucking-body else and I can’t - I can’t handle that, okay? Because you’re the first person I’ve talked to in _god_ knows how long that hasn’t run away in disgust or called me annoying or psycho or crazy and I can’t - I can’t have that disappear. At least not if it’s not on my terms.”

“But you did, Wade. You told me. And I _haven’t_ run away like everyone else. I haven’t acted like I’m disgusted and I haven’t called you annoying or psycho or crazy.” 

“But you will, Peter! You will because that’s just what _everyone_ does! I _know_ how this works! V-she left me and she stuck with me through the cancer before all _this_ ”- Wade gestured at his body - “happened. You’re not the one who looks like me. You’re not the one with voices in his head. You don’t know how this works. And you _did_ leave. You didn’t show up for what, four days?”

“ _God_ Wade, I’m serious, I keep _telling_ you I won’t run away and I keep _asking_ you why you expect the same of your soulmate, of _me_ , and you don’t fucking _lis_ ten. I didn’t come because I was pissed, because your dumb ass didn’t come _talk_ to me even though I thought we were good friends. I guaran _tee_ that if you’d told me what the fuck was going on in your life, I wouldn’t have fucked off myself. I come here _every other night_ and I complain to you about school and work and you listen to me and you _know things_ about me and I barely know shit about you! I barely know shit about you, okay, and I’ve known you for months now. So don’t - _god_ , don’t talk to me about me fucking off if you tell me shit when you haven’t even fucking tried. Because I guarantee that if you get to know me and if you take my word, you’ll find that I take taking my word very seriously; and I’m kind, and understanding, and one _stu_ bborn sonuvabitch; and it takes more than bad skin, voices in your head, and killing people to make me leave someone.” They were both standing, because arguing seemed to work better when standing. Wade had his arms crossed in front of his chest, and Peter had his right hand on his cocked hip, his left having been used to gesticulate wildly as he talked. He sighed and put his arms out.

“C’mere Wade,” he said gently. “I _pro_ mise you that I’ll stay, and that you can always talk to me.” Wade uncrossed his arms and let himelf get hugged by Peter. 

“Let me in,” Peter whispered.


	5. 5

Their rooftop moment seemed to _finally_ do the trick; Wade didn’t seem to hide so much of his thinking from Peter. He was more unfiltered, and he let himself ramble and Peter didn’t stop him, and he let his crude humour show, and he sometimes bickered with “the boxes” out loud. The more time Peter spent with Wade, the more Peter liked him. Wade just made it so easy to. They started texting a lot, when Peter was bored in class, or Wade was bored on a job, or they were bored in general, or they had a thought, or just because. He invited Wade over to his place one day, and then Wade just kept coming over. He felt like a broken record, but so many nice things came with knowing Wade: having company, having a friend, texting someone, going home to someone. 

One day it hit him that he’d fallen in love with Wade Wilson, Deadpool, his soulmate. He was kind of expecting it, what with them being soulmates and all, but he wasn’t expecting how happy it made him. He hoped it was the same for Wade, and not just the in love part (because it’d sure be awkward if it was one-sided), but the happiness part as well. It did, he thought. Wade seemed cheerier, and not just like he was putting up a front. He had really bad days, but Peter did too, and they talked it out now. 

His love, he felt, was obvious. He felt like he communicated it with all his actions and all his words. He made sure that whatever he did though, it didn’t involve avoiding Wade, because that would surely be worse than anything else. Not only on Wade. _He’d_ be a mess. It wasn’t exactly healthy to be so codependent, but then again, what about Peter’s life was healthy? All he knew was that Wade made him happy, and he made Wade happy, and that was the most important thing to him. He’d tell Wade. Eventually. He just wanted to stay in this happy place a little longer. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Petey? Your forehead’s all crinkled and your brow’s furrowed. It’s adorable, really. Y’know those dogs and cats that always have forehead crinkles? Like pugs, or something. And that one naked cat, y’know? Lots of people find those cats ugly but I’m like do you know what you’re talking about? Like, it’s a cat and cats are cute. And oh-em-gee old people! If you look at them from far away then they’re cute! Like, you don’t gotta smell them or help them or get to know them, like what if they’re mean, y’know? Like in theory they’re cute and all because I dunno, ask the internet or something! Lotsa people find them cute. Do you find them cute?”

“Umm? I don’t know? I never really thought about that.” 

“You know what? That’s okay. Here’s my today’s question of today: thot. I know, I know, that’s not a question, but it’s too big of a question to explain in one go! So here’s the thing: thot stands for That Ho Over There, right? So then I don’t get how it works, like some people are like “she’s such a thot” or whatever but like do they even get what they’re saying? They’re saying “she’s such a that ho over there” and that doesn’t even remotely make sense! Why don’t they just say “she’s such a ho”? Take me back to when times were simpler, Spidey,” Wade groused. Peter started laughing, and Wade pointed at him, eyes narrowed.

“Don’t act like you’ve never asked that question before, Parker. It’s an essential question!”

“But I haven-”

“Nope. Shush up. Not another word. I’m sorry, but I don’t talk to liars. I only talk to harps!” Wade cackled as Peter threw a pillow at him.

“Pete, I-” Wade cut himself off, frowning, and Peter realised that the colours surrounding them were becoming more muted. They faded to black and white as Wade slumped forward on the couch. Peter’s breathing was becoming more erratic. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he swore softly under his breath. “Holy shitballs.” Someone knew where he lived, and that Wade was gonna be here. And his stupid, fucking, good-for-nothing Spidey Sense hadn’t alerted him. Or maybe it did, but he’d been too lost in thought to recognise it before it was too late. He was so stupid. He should’ve been more careful. He huffed out a breath. Okay. No use beating himself up about it now. Okay. He just had to . . . to take Wade to the bathroom and get him cleaned up before blood got on his couch and dried on it and his suit. Shit. Someone saw Wade without his mask. Wade wasn’t gonna be happy about that. But then again, that was the least of their worries now, with someone having seen his fucking house, and known that Wade would be here. 

He hoisted Wade carefully over his shoulder and went to the bathroom. He set Wade in the bathtub and turned the water on. He took the showerhead down, checking the water to make sure it was warm, and sprayed it on Wade’s back. When he’d gotten as much blood off as he could, he turned the water off. 

“I’m sorry, Wade, I’m sorry,” Peter whispered repeatedly as he took Wade’s suit off. He needed Wade to wake up dry and warm and comfortable, and his suit was now soaked, so he had to find some of his own clothes for Wade. Good thing he bought clothes that were baggy and too big. He put a t-shirt and hoodie on Wade’s upper half, and boxers and shorts on his lower half. Then he laid Wade in his own bed, sitting at his desk to wait. There were so many things to consider now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i was writing this, i wrote the fluff, right? nd i didn't know where to take it nxt, or how it'd all end, so my brain jokingly suggested killing wade. so i did just tht. hope u enjoyed lmao!!! idk man it was supposedta be a short thing? but now it's 5 chps nd counting, nd my google doc for it is 17 pgs


	6. 6

Wade came back confused. His head turning to take in his environment was what alerted Peter to his state of consciousness. 

“Wade, I’m so so sorry I should’ve been more aware but I was too absorbed in my thoughts that anything my Spidey Sense would’ve warned me of went uncaught and I couldn’t save you in time. And then I had to wash you and your suit was soaked and I had to make sure you were as comfortable as you could be when you woke up, so I took off your suit and put some of my clothes on you.” He was babbling, he knew, and speaking really fast.

“Petey. Hey. You’re okay. We’re okay. It’s all good. I trust you, remember? We’re all good.” Peter exhaled and nodded, going over and letting Wade hug him when he was beckoned. “Don’t worry, yeah? Don’t worry.” 

“Well, actually, I mean, I can’t _not_ worry. Someone now knows where I live and that you hang out with me and I just - I gotta move. Not that I don’t like hanging out with you or I don’t want people to see us together or anything because that’s a lie, but like, I don’t want anyone to know where I live and all that and-“

“You’re rambling,” Wade noted amusedly. 

“Right, I . . . right. Jesus Wade, how are you so fucking _calm_ about all this? Does this, like, not scare the crap outta you?”

“It does . . . n’t? Eh. I’m used to it. _Got_ ta be in this line of work, y’know? Anyway, don’t worry. You can come stay at my place for now. It’s not . . . the cleanest of places, but we can clean it up. _I_ can clean it up, I mean. You’re a guest. Hmmm. That person might be still out there, but don’t worry. I don’t think they’re a big deal. We’ll just gotta hafta use my teleportation thing!”

“Does it . . . would it still work if it’s been wet?”

“I guess we’ll see! Is there anything you _ab_ solutely need from your house? Hmm your suit, right? Go pack a backpack full of shit. I’ll go get my suit.” Instructions. Okay. Peter could do with set instructions. He went to go do what Wade wanted him to do and met back up with him in the bathroom. 

“‘M ready to go,” he said quietly. Wade put an arm around his waist and he held on, bracing himself for it.

As a science-y person (and also with his Parker luck), Peter should’ve expected that what he’d expected was _not_ what happened. But, well, he hadn’t really known what to expect, to be honest. He’d been too busy worrying about how this would all turn out to think about how it’d feel. Like, teleportation! That’s wild! Where does your body go? It disappears and pops back up somewhere totally different? How does it know where to go? It kind of messed with his mind too much and he had to stop thinking about it. And his body was getting used to, like, whatever happened, and he felt nauseated. 

“Yeah, sorry, Spidey. It’s not fun for first-timers. You just . . . stay here, and I’ll clean up and stuff. Yeah, you just rest on the couch. You can get water, if you want. The fridge water is safe, pretty sure.” Peter sat down on the couch, closing his eyes. He could hear Wade making a racket, walking around, cursing. His head was feeling better, so he cracked an eye open. Wade seemed to be taking all his junk from various rooms and stashing it in one room, and some of the closets he had in his halls. His place was actually really big. Well. He _was_ a merc. 

“Wade?”

“Petey? I thought I told you to stay on the couch.”

“Yeah, well, I’m feelin’ better now, so.” He peered into the room Wade was in the process of cleaning. It was the bedroom, he assumed, from the mattress tucked away into the corner. The mess was being piled on top of the mattress so that Wade could bundle it all up in the sheets and take it away.

“I have extra sheets in this closet, I think. D’you wanna get that?” Peter nodded, going to find them. Wade took the bundle into another room. By the time Wade came back, Peter’d already put new sheets on the mattress.

“How are we gonna sleep? Do you have a . . . guest room or something?” Peter inquired. Wade shook his head.

“Nah. You take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I can’t do that,” Peter protested. “This is _your_ place, and it’d be unfair of me.”

“It’s fine, Peter. You saw the mess before. Most of that shit was al _ready_ there, so it’s not like I’ve been using it much anyway.”

“Nope,” Peter said decisively. “We’ll share the bed, and it’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure.” Wade was kind of staring him down. He nodded resolutely. “Alright then. I’ll give you a grand tour of the place.” 

It was all pretty straightforward. There were closets, the bedroom, the bathroom, the living room, the kitchen. There was also a room Peter wasn’t allowed in, but he trusted Wade, and he trusted that it’d be best if he didn’t go in there. 

That night, they both took a break from patrolling, and called Matt to do it instead. Peter got into bed, exhausted, and found he didn’t really have trouble sleeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates are gna be slower for the foreseeable future, as i don't rly hv any solid plot plans!! also this doc is now 22 pgs and counting! fun times, fun times


	7. 7

When Peter woke up, he was the only one in bed. He walked out cautiously to find Wade making pancakes for breakfast. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Wade said cheerily.

“Morning,” he mumbled in response. He took a seat at the table, putting his head down in his arms.

“Not a morning person, I take it,” Wade guessed. Peter nodded sluggishly, and Wade laughed a little to himself. He turned back to the pancakes he was making, singing under his breath. 

“Your voice sounds nice,” Peter murmured, voice muffled. 

“Yeah, Petey?”

“Mmm,” Peter responded. Wade smiled to himself and continued singing, this time a little louder. The singing cut off abruptly, and Peter looked up, confused.

“I’m gonna be gone, Pete. I don’t know how long it’s gonna take, but I’m not gonna stop ‘til I’m sure we’re safe. And you don’t get to go. Don’t argue, okay? My enemies, my business. You just stay here at my place. There’s enough food and water and supplies that you wouldn’t need to leave. I know it sucks, but you have to, okay? You have to stay until I come back, because only when I come back will we be safe. I don’t know if I’ll be able to come check on you and stuff, but I’ll give you Matt’s number. You can call him if you need anything. I’m sorry, Peter. I know this’ll suck.” Wade’s voice had gone all soft and gentle at the end, and Peter sat up, fully awake now. Wade was right; it had already started sucking. He didn’t like being cooped up. He didn’t like not having anything to do. He didn’t like feeling helpless. He frowned, and Wade smiled sadly back at him. 

“I know, Petey, I know. I’m sorry. I really am. I just think you’d be safer staying here, and I think I’d feel a lot better knowing you were.” Wade was bringing over the plate of pancakes while he spoke, as well as two more plates, two forks, two knives, and a thing of syrup. He placed a plate in front of Peter and took the spot across from him. They both piled pancakes on their plates. There wasn’t much talking as they ate. 

Wade left soon after breakfast. He got all his gear ready, and Peter was silent during the whole affair. Before Wade left, Peter hugged him tightly.

“I’ll try to make this as quick as possible, and to not die while I’m gone,” Wade promised, taking Peter’s hands and looking into his eyes. “I know how it makes you feel.”

“I love you,” Peter blurted out. 

“Love you too, Peter Parker.” Wade held onto his hands a while longer before leaving, closing the door quietly behind him. Peter stayed frozen at the door for a few minutes before unfreezing and going to sit down on the couch, bent over with his hands clasped and head bowed. 

He hated how final their goodbye had sounded, and he wondered, not for the first time, whether he was over-dramatizing the whole ordeal. Was he? He couldn’t tell. If he’d asked Wade, Wade would probably’ve said he wasn’t, that that kind of thing didn’t normally happen to Peter and that it was fine for him to be scared. And Wade! God, he’d told Wade he loved him, and Wade probably didn’t even understand the extent of his feelings. 

However long Wade was gonna be, it was gonna feel like an e _ter_ nity. Well. Good thing he had a lot on his mind, as well as a lot in his backpack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song wade sings is "banana pancakes" by jack johnson!! i urge u to look it up if u don't kno it already, bc it's a lovely one


	8. 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all,,, holy heckin' fuck,, if u look at how many chps it's out of,, u'll notice there's not a question mark anymore. i'm done. i finished. i like where i end it, i think. holy shit!! i'm so proud of myself bc i can't remember the last time i finished something so big. thank u to everyone who's commented and kudos-ed nd read nd bookmarked nd stuff.

It was absolute hell. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate on his homework, he’d get sidetracked too much after half an hour. He’d start to work, and then his brain would too. It was all tedious work, pretty much, and it wasn’t a challenge to him, so his brain decided to think about other things. And then he’d stop doing his homework and just worry about whatever was on his mind. It was super frustrating to deal with. He only hoped Wade was having a better time. He knew how much Wade disliked the boring work, the work that didn’t contain much action, and he figured that whatever Wade was doing consisted of a lot of that kind of work. Poor Wade. And poor Peter too. Poor little Peter. He was in his head _way_ too much for his own liking. He was thinking about Wade’s well-being, both mentally and physically. He was thinking about whether Wade was safe, whether _he_ himself was safe. He was thinking about what he’d say if Wade were to bring up them saying “I love you” to each other. He was thinking about whether _he_ should be the one to start that conversation. He supposed he could call Matt over if company was what he wanted, but he didn’t even really know the guy. And besides, he didn’t _need_ company; he could survive without it, and therefore it wasn’t worth calling Matt for. 

Peter almost could’ve _screamed_. He was tired and lonely and bored and frustrated. He was also starting to see the appeal in talking to himself. If he talked out loud and carried on his half of a conversation and his arguments, he could pretend there was someone else. So he did. He talked as he worked, and he talked when he started having arguments with himself, and he talked when he was thinking things through. It made things marginally less lonely. He still couldn’t wait until Wade finally came back. 

It was weird, he thought. Wade hadn’t really taken any jobs since he started hanging out and staying with Peter; he knew Peter didn’t like that he unalived people, even if they were bad people, and patrolling was enough to appease his appetite for whatever appetite he had. Peter couldn’t say for _sure_ that that was the reality of it, but he trusted Wade, and he trusted Wade to tell him the truth. So then why would someone kill Wade now? Why wait this long if it was from a job? If it was because of something they did while patrolling together, why kill only Wade? Why go after Wade before going after Peter? It was all so very confusing, and it made him feel so helpless. He couldn’t do anything to contribute to the effort. He had no idea when Wade was coming home. All he could do was wait. 

In the end, Wade came back at night, after Peter had already fallen asleep, stripping out of his gear and slipping into bed beside him. When Peter woke up, he was facing Wade, and he felt an immense amount of relief wash over him. Wade was back. There was no more worrying, no more waiting, no more boredom. Well, at least not coming from their prior predicament. 

When Wade woke up, they pretended like everything was normal. They went through their usual routine, except it was now at _Wade’s_ house, and they both slept there in the same bed. They carried on that way for two days before Peter couldn’t take it anymore. He _assumed_ everything was fine, but it was better to make sure. He didn’t know if Wade felt the same way about him, but if they were soulmates then they’d probably be spending the rest of their lives together, which meant it was probably better too, to clear things up. 

“Wade? Can we talk about what happened? And like, unpack all that information?” They weren’t doing much, just lounging about on the couch, and Peter figured now was as good a time as any to have this talk. 

“Y’want me to start from the beginning? The job that caused this?” At Peter’s nod, Wade continued. “Okay, well, a few months back, I got this job. Big money from a rival to take out this guy who’s leading a child trafficking ring. Well, I _did_ take out the leader, obviously. And brought the kids to like, the police or hospital or whatever. But because of that, they’ve lost money, and they got mad, so they found me, and they killed me. So I hadta do some sleuthin’, figure out who this bitch was that killed me, track him down, and take care of him. And now we’re safe. From _them_ , at least. And I’d recommend movin’ outta your place, Pete. Sorry. He probably gave out your address or somethin’, and I don’t want you to die by association. You can stay here if you need; there’s plenty of space for your shit. Or wait . . . how long have I been here again? What? Two months? Too long. Ha. _Two_ months, _too_ long. Yeah, no. That’s not gonna work. They probably know where I live. Y’wanna go apartment hunting together, Pete?”

“Like, us share an apartment.”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s the safest option, right? But damn, if only there was a way I could teleport all this shit too. Wait! _Duh_ , I could just, like, make sure we’re not being watched, duh. Yeah. Okay. So we’re gonna make sure no one’s watching us, and then we’re gonna go apartment hunting together, and then we’ll have an apartment and we can use a moving van or whatever to move our shit! Easy peasy! I mean. If you’re okay with it? Are you okay with it?” 

“I mean, yeah, why not? We’re soulmates, we’ve already proven we’re good roomies, we won’t be lonely, and we’ll be safer. I only see good things.” He was lying. There was, of course, the issue of confessing his more than platonic feelings, but right now was not the time. That seemed like an extraneous detail compared to the question of their safety. That conversation could always wait. Now, it was time for apartment hunting.


	9. The End of the Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i added in two sentences for you, squchie. he's there!

They had to lay low for another week. Wade did surveillance to make sure _they_ weren’t doing surveillance on Wade and Peter, and when he was satisfied, they left to go apartment hunting. Their search eventually took them to a place that was inconspicuous, but a good size for two people and their belongings. They moved Peter’s furniture in first. When it came to Wade’s stuff, a lot of it was thrown out or donated or the like; he didn’t use half the things in his apartment. Then the stuff he _did_ keep was moved into the new apartment. All in all, the whole searching and moving process took about a month. Good thing Peter started attending school the week after surveillance. He was able to pass it off as a severe illness, and it wasn’t too difficult to catch up on the two weeks’ worth of lessons he’d missed. 

Now that they were all settled in, things had gotten a lot more relaxed again. He and Wade gamed, watched movies, and partook in the activities they’d always partaken in before this whole ordeal. They still shared a bed, because it wasn’t like it was a big deal to them, and that money could go into something else. They resumed patrolling once Wade had deemed it safe, but were more wary. They even invited Matt over one night - even though they didn’t really talk to others - as a thank you for making sure Peter was safe. It was, quite honestly, a very fun time. 

They were also, Peter started noticing, so very domestic. Wade was pretty much always up before Peter, making breakfast for the two them, because Peter was “a growing college boy who needed rest and food”. They chilled and cuddled on the couch together when they watched movies. They cuddled together when they _played video games_. If one of them was having a rough day, the other would turn the day into a self-care day for the other person, making sure they were comfy, and had whatever food they wanted, and were doing whatever cheered them up. That last bit usually including the company of the other. Peter had always known since Wade started patrolling with him that they worked well as a unit, but he hadn’t _really_ noticed the full extent of it ‘til they’d started living together. Well. There was a reason they were soulmates. They just . . . moved together so seamlessly. He didn’t like when people talked about their “other half completing them”, but even if he and Wade were the “finish each other’s sentences” stereotype, they weren’t exactly like that. It wasn’t like he’d felt empty before Wade. It was just . . . like, if you were to take strawberry jam, it tasted good on its own, but it tasted better when put together with peanut butter. _That’s_ how they were; they complemented one another. 

Shit. He was getting all _sappy_ now. So very sappy. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take before exploding. Over the weeks, they’d gotten _that_ much more comfortable with being tactile, because they were both very touch-starved people, truth be told. It meant that Peter’s heart did that _thing_ where he felt like he might just transcend and leave his body because it was too _much_ for him and he felt like he might explode. He wondered if Wade noticed, if Peter was that bad of an actor. He wondered if there was a chance that Wade also liked him. Well. There was only one way to find out. 

Peter Parker was not the most tactical person; he was, in fact, quite the opposite. He was a person who blurted things out instead of figuring a good time and place and way to say them. It stood to reason that a love confession would be no different. Honestly, it went much the same as the other time he tried to confess. They were on the couch, cuddling as per usual, when it happened.

“I love you,” Peter said suddenly. 

“Love you too, pumpkin.” 

“No. Like, love you. Like, _love_ love you. Like, romantically love.”

“Mm. Me too, Peter. Love you romantically too.” Peter pushed himself off Wade to stare at him, dumbfounded. 

“Wait. What? You too?”

“Yeah, me too. I thought it was obvious.”

“No! I thought I was projecting! Wait, what the heck, why didn’t you say something?”

“Didn’t feel the need to?”

“You dickhead! I’ve been, like, agonising over whether or not I should confess to you.”

“Oh. Well you shouldn’t’ve, Petey Pie,” Wade responded, patting his cheek affectionately. 

“Yeah, well I know that now,” Peter grumbled. “Asshole.” Wade pressed a kiss to Peter’s cheek in retaliation and Peter was suddenly incapable of speech. Life wouldn’t be so different, he decided. Except for the fact that Wade was so amazing it was gonna become even _more_ of a regular thing that he rendered Peter speechless. Stupid Wade and his stupid personality and the stupid effect he had on Peter. 

*** TINY LI’L BONUS FROM WADE’S PERSPECTIVE***

Wade was glad he’d mastered the art of schooling his facial expression so it didn’t reveal what he was feeling, because at the moment, he wasn’t feeling much of anything. Or, well, he was feeling _too much_ elation that he was also feeling nothing. It was like when you used the hot water at the sink, right? But it was so hot so hot that it felt cold. _That's_ what he was feeling. He was more drifting off into space, simultaneously shouting and whooping into the void and staying silent. Because holy fucking shit. Peter, his Peter, his soulmate, his best friend, just confessed his _romantic feelings for Wade_ , which were wholeheartedly (ha) reciprocated. Holy fuck. He didn’t think this day could get any better. His day was at like, peak status. His _life_ could for _sure_ be better than this because _his Peter confessed his romantic feelings for Wade_ which meant 1000% more happiness in his life because now, in addition to doing some very sweet queerplatonic things, they were gonna do romantical things!! He was _definitely_ looking forward to the future now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL!!!! this has honestly been so funnnn, albeit stressful. this is the FIRST TIME i've finished such a HUGE bitch of a thing (26 pgs in my doc!!!!!!) nd wOw. like i've posted multiple multi-chp fics, but i've nvr finished them. nd this one, i wrote in much the same way. i wrote two chps, posted one, wrote another, posted another, etc. i hv a System where i always hv one chp finished when i post one, nd it WORKED this time!!! thanks to everyone who has interacted w this fic; it means a lot to me. i hope u liked this ending nd the lil surprise at the end.


End file.
